A pyramid scheme of kindness

PAY IT FORWARD (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

You have heard the concept before. You receive an e-mail or a letter in the mail regarding a great new opportunity - you send one dollar to seven addresses and they will send one dollar to seven others, and so on. Before you know it, you will make thousands of dollars a month. The idea forms a chain or a pyramid strategy, hence, chain letters. The reason the idea does not work is because it feels like a rip-off, plus whose to say that people will follow through and pay it forward? The film "Pay it Forward" wants us to believe that people repaying acts of kindness for kindness done upon them can work if a kid makes them believe in the idea. But how many people are genuinely kind enough to follow through with such a plan? Do we want to be forced to act kindly?

Consider the opening sequence of the film set in an elementary school. Trevor McKinney (Haley Joel Osment), a seventh grader, listens attentively in class as his social-studies teacher, Mr. Simonet (Kevin Spacey), gives an extra-credit assignment for the semester. The class is to come up with a plan of action to make the world a better place and follow through by performing said action. Trevor devises an original plan: one person does an act of kindness for someone and that person will pay it forward by helping three other people. A chain reaction is expected as numbers will grow and, before you know it, the world will be at peace again. But there are flaws with such a plan, aren't there? Could such a chain reaction occur with no money involved? There may be benefits if the acts are reciprocated but what if they aren't? This movie never dares to consider that certain people do not want to be helped or even want to act kindly.

For example, there is the homeless drug addict, Jerry (Jim Caviezel), who is taken home by Trevor. We sense that Jerry is only interested in his next fix, which he is, but he also claims that this kid has helped him to see the light and get another chance at life. There is the homeless alcoholic (Angie Dickinson), her own alcoholic daughter, Arlene, Trevor's mother (Helen Hunt), who always keep a bottle stashed in her washer. There is also another drug addict and a couple of school bullies. And then there is Mr. Simonet, who has burn scars all over his body, uses "a lot of big words" and whom Trevor tries to fix up with his mother, Arlene. Trevor hopes to at least help his mother and Mr. Simonet, as well as his friend who is beaten up by bullies. He is trying to pay it forward. Suddenly, a movement is born, or so it seems.

"Pay it Forward's" structure is all over the place, as it jumps backwards and forwards in time. We see a reporter (Jay Mohr) at a crime scene where his car is nearly demolished. A lawyer sees him, and offers his Jaguar as compensation for the reporter's loss. The lawyer is paying it forward, and thus begins the reporter's quest to discover the origins of this movement. "Four Months Earlier" is the title reminding us of where we are in time yet throughout the film, Jay Mohr's character seems to occupy the same timeline as Trevor's, particularly during the genesis of his plan.

Time shifting is not this film's problem. A bigger flaw is the lack of time spent on this ingenious plan, its pros and cons and so on. Too much time is devoted to the silly romance between Mr. Simonet and Trevor's mother to the point of nausea. Helen Hunt is astoundingly good as the trashy waitress but her alcoholic mood swings seem too abrupt to really believe, or as abrupt as it should be. She undergoes such a quick recovery that it hardly seems plausible she was ever an alcoholic to begin with. Kevin Spacey is adequately restrained as the scarred Mr. Simonet, and has all the best dialogue scenes. But hardly much of this matters as much as Trevor's plan of action. We see samples of it but not enough is balanced with the film's increasingly tepid romance, not to mention the inclusion of Trevor's own father (Jon Bon Jovi) who appears and disappears so fast that you'll forget he ever existed. I would also have liked to have seen more of Dickinson's character or even Caviezel's.

Some have called "Pay it Forward" shamelessly manipulative and overly sentimental. Some have called it touching. I just found the Spacey and Hunt characters real and engaging yet they are mostly saddled with unrealistic dialogue and shameless cliches, and the rest of the characters are mere stereotypes. The film is strangely watchable but also devoid of real human emotion, and plus there is a tragic, unbelievable coda that negates most of the film's two hour running time. All in all, not terrible but too thin and cliche-ridden to recommend to anyone, let alone three people.

Hey, there, heartbreaker

SHANNA COLLINS: A HEARTBREAKING STARLET IN THE MAKING

By Jerry Saravia

Shanna Collins in "Cinema Verite"

Shanna Collins in "Swingtown"

I am shocked that actress Shanna Collins hasn't taken Hollywood or the independent scene or both by storm yet. Who is Shanna Collins you might ask? For those few who have seen the 2008 short-lived TV series, "Swingtown," she was Laurie Miller, the young daughter of Bruce and Susan Miller who was something of a free spirit. She was so free that she had an affair with a college professor! It is a show that was barely given enough of a chance and it died after 13 episodes, but her character was the most memorable for me. She exhibited the spirited young 1970's woman who was more mature than even the adults in her life, hence the relationship with the professor, and she looked the part with such conviction that really any American story from that era should feature Shanna.


As a matter of fact, Shanna Collins also appeared in the excellent TV movie "Cinema Verite" playing a member of the television crew who are filming the first reality show ever, PBS's "An American Family." Although Shanna doesn't have many lines, her presence enlivens the film and she projects a certain emotional understanding and, perhaps, regret about filming a family's private moments - it is all in her looks and gestures. And the film of course takes place during the 1970's.

Shanna Collins in CSI:NY

Aside from roles in "The Haunting of Molly Hartley" and Spielberg's "War of the Worlds," Shanna has done her share of television including episodes of "Veronica Mars," "Malcolm in the Middle," "Without a Trace," "Medium," "Criminal Minds" and, most recently, a special Valentine's episode of "CSI: NY" entitled "Blood Actually." In the popular forensic procedural show, she plays Wendy, a woman going through a divorce with a wealthy husband who wants to kill her. Shanna shows sensitivity and vulnerability in true splendor as Wendy - she is like a wallflower or a dark red rose that you need to take care of before it splits open and dies (Imagine her for a moment as Audrey Hepburn). These are Shanna Collins' main strengths. She also has such a tiny part as a bartender in the 2012 short film "Americans" that stars Sean Penn and Kid Rock that you kinda wished her part had been switched with Kid Rock (who is not much of an actor). She needs a leading role - a breakthrough part that can and should make actresses in her age group envious. Her screen presence haunts me, and I hope it does the same for others.

Shanna Collins and Sean Penn in 2010's "Americans"

George Valentin SPEAKS...one word!

THE ARTIST (2011)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Any time I see a silent film, it is like looking back at an earlier century of a world that no longer exists. In fact, black-and-white film stock barely exists anymore. Actors mugging for the camera in heavy eyeliner (excepting Johnny Depp in "Pirates of the Caribbean" mode) in single takes with no zooms and no sound or talking (orchestras at theaters provided the music score) no longer exists - the silents are artifacts of another time. The good news is that many have been restored and saved for future posterity. The great news is that "The Artist" is a genuine sweet treat - a movie for movie lovers and a reminder of the power of silent films.

In the late 1920's, the fictitious actor George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) was the toast of the Hollywood town. His films were major successes and, yes novice film lovers who never heard of the early 20th century, they were silent. Valentin is often cast as the dashing man of films like "A Russian Affair," along with his cute Jack Russell terrier, Uggy. As long as the box-office receipts are high, studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman, perfectly cast in a role that mirrors his 50's producer/director from 1993's "Matinee") is happy.

Valentin catches the eye of an amorous fan, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo, the only actor who added any luster to "A Knight's Tale"), who is an able dancer and a hell of a sparkling screen presence herself as she proves to land her foot on the door. Just as she is matriculating in the film business, the talkies take over the silents. The fact is that audiences want to hear the actors "talk" thanks to the advent of sound. Pretty soon Valentin, who scoffs at the idea of talkies, finances his own silent adventure epic and loses a bundle (also thanks to the Stock Market Crash of 1929) and faces imminent divorce from his wife (Penelope Ann Miller). Meanwhile, Peppy becomes a box-office attraction.

"The Artist" is written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius who has crafted an indelible portrait of a time long lost to us, but not forgotten. I first heard about the film at Cannes and wondered how such a film would fare in this day and age. The answer may be that those who watch the TCM channel and/or have an adoration for the silent era that began in 1895 may not be such a small audience after all. I am one of them, as is my wife, and we both love silent films in general. That is not to say that all of them are great and wonderful but there are many that reign supreme ("Napoleon," "Sunrise," Nosferatu," which all have a heavy heart) and there are some that make you laugh and some that leave one in awe at their sheer inventiveness (anything by Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Méliès for starters). "The Artist" is almost a medley of films from the 1920's crossed with early 1930's musicals ("Top Hat" and "Singin' In the Rain" appear to be films that these filmmakers have looked at time and again for inspiration).

Dujardin impressively expresses an array of emotions just by his body language and gestures. He also looks like an actor from the 1920's - a mixture of a dramatic John Gilbert crossed with the romantic charms of Rudolph Valentino. Argentine-born Bérénice Bejo is a dazzling charmer herself and conveys a joy of being in a town that once prided itself on the art and imagination of moviemaking. Moreover, both Dujardin and Bejo express a joy of living because their movie stardom and their movies bring joy to others.

I simply could not find a false note in "The Artist." It is as good as any silent film from the same era except that it has something the other silents don't - a melancholy expression of the actors who couldn't and wouldn't make the transition to the talkies. I don't want to sound like the paid movie critics who scream pointless exclamations about a movie's strengths in advertisements but I can't help myself. You'll LAUGH! You'll CRY! There is ADVENTURE! ROMANCE! A CUTE DOG! STIRRING MUSIC! A FITTING REMINDER AND HOMAGE TO THE SILENT ERA! A MUST-SEE! THEY DO MAKE THEM LIKE THEY USED TO!

Willis carried original 'Die Hard' to epic heights

DIE HARD (1988)

An appreciation by Jerry Saravia

When Bruce Willis first appeared in 1988's masterful action film, "Die Hard," there was little to no hope that Willis could carry an action film. After all, he was no Stallone or Schwarzenegger nor any kind of macho, musclebound hero - he wasn't even Chuck Norris. Prior to "Die Hard," he appeared in the wacky "Blind Date" and the shockingly awful "Sunset" with James Garner. Most knew him from TV's inventive and witty "Moonlighting" but clearly audiences were getting tired of Willis's smirk and jocose nature. "Die Hard" proved everyone wrong - it is a nail-biting, claustrophobic, suspenseful action picture that uses one designated place - the tall Nakatomi towers - to deliver a highly charged and potent film with a vulnerable action hero who could lose.

Everyone knows Willis is the recalcitrant New York cop, John McClane, who is visiting his wife, Holly (Bonnie Bedelia) for Christmas in the West Coast. Holly works for Nakatomi Plaza and has done well for herself and her kids. John has been abandoned, or he may have abandoned them by not living with his family in La-La Land. Before one can say there is trouble in the McClane marriage, a group of German terrorists led by Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman as one of the suavest villains ever who is critical of business suits) have seized Nakatomi. The reason: Hans wants the 640 million in bearer bonds located in the Nakatomi vault. "What kind of terrorists are you?," asks the CEO. Geez, this Hans is not truly interested in certain prisoners held in political asylum either. Money is his game.

"Die Hard" has one cleverly designed, thrilling, nerve-wracking sequence after another. If you have a fear of heights, it might be wise to view the film with covered eyes or not at all. Seeing Willis riding on top of elevators that zoom up and down floors, or when he attempts to jump off the building while strapped to a firehose, or when he tries to scale down an elevator shaft are scenes that will leave you breathless with sweaty palms and nervous jitters. "Die Hard" amps up the dire and chaotic situation that John McClane is in by swiftly jumping from one moment of trepidation to another, never losing sight of the hero's weaknesses or his vulnerability. McClane hurts and bleeds easily and not one person will be less than scared for the guy when his bloodied feet (he is barefoot throughout the movie) slam against a window as he hangs on for dear life.

There are two touching sequences in the film. The first is when McClane tears up and tell his friend, Sgt. Powell (Reginald VelJohnson) whom he communicates by radio transmitter, that Holly is the best thing that has ever happened to him. And (*SPOILER ALERT) the last scene has McClane meeting Powell for the first time - a bond has been shared that will make most action fans misty-eyed.

Director John McTiernan has assembled all the elements to make one hell of an action masterpiece. All the action scenes and explosions are part of the fabric of the story - they enhance it rather than deter from it. There are many humorous asides including Argyle (De'voreaux White), the limo driver, Willis's pointed repartee, and I hate to exclude a tense scene where Hans pretends to use an American accent in front of McClane, who has no idea what the terrorist leader looks like. The movie is a revved-up roller-coaster ride that gives us goosebumps, laughs, terror, escapism, rigid and devious villains, and a hero who would make the aforementioned brawny heroes of the 80's seem infinitesimal by comparison. Nobody has come close to making anything as great an action film as "Die Hard" (and there have been sequels and numerous clones). Forget even Irwin Allen's "Towering Inferno" - Irwin Allen only wished he made a movie like "Die Hard."

Family is the Drug

CROOKED HEARTS (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Crooked Hearts" is an ashamedly forgotten dysfunctional family drama that should have had a bigger audience. With its roster of actors who all come up aces, it should have also had a bigger theatrical release but MGM may or may not have had faith in it. Video and DVD lends to a ripe discovery of an independent film (made in Canada) that should be talked about and discussed. It is that good.

Based on Robert Boswell's even sadder novel and adapted by writer-director Michael Bortman, "Crooked Hearts" focuses on the Warrens, a family that celebrates failure. When Tom (Peter Berg) returns home after barely finishing his first college semester, a party is thrown. The parents (Cindy Pickett, Peter Coyote) take it all in stride, expressing their joy that their son is home though no conversation on why he didn't finish his semester. Noah Wyle is the younger brother, Ask, who has written a set of rules that he follows, such as never throwing water on an electrical fire. Juliette Lewis (prior to her breakthrough "Cape Fear" performance and in her debut performance, a fact shared by Juliette herself) is Cassie who falls asleep at the most inopportune times. And there is the troublemaker, Charley (Vincent D'Onofrio), who has slept with every girl in town and got a bakery girl pregnant! He is the fire that burns in this family, the one who wants to get away but his father will not let him.

"Crooked Hearts" doesn't skimp on how this family hurts each other without really noticing. The Warrens are not capable of speaking to each other or communicating without highlighting failure as some sort of reward. No real insight into why the family behaves this way is given except that secrets must not be divulged to the sleepy daughter of the Warren household, Cassie. This can be frustrating to the viewer (especially after the tragic loss of their home leads to a party at a motor inn) but it is indicative of a family that can't and won't let go of each other. Cindy Pickett as the Warren matriarch wants her husband to let go of Charley, who feels his father's vise-like grip tightening. Charley purposefully screws up so that he can be free but nothing works (he even admits to Tom that he impregnated Tom's ex). One too many tragedies lead to an emotional close that will have you straining to breathe, with the hope that the Warrens can move on. Do they and can they speak in real truths without celebrating who screws up next? Hard to say.

"Crooked Hearts" is a tough, unsentimental picture about how family love can suffocate everyone. The novel by Boswell also drains our emotions and our sorrows but the film deals with its themes through a quiet, unrelenting unease. Despite some humorous touches (such as Jennifer Jason Leigh as a girl who believes in signing a contract before a relationship begins), this is technically one of the bleakest family dramas I've seen in ages. "This family is like a drug and we are all junkies," says Charley. A salient point from an underappreciated gem. 

Super-Neo-Noir, Soulless City

SIN CITY (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Let's get one thing sparklingly clear - I love film noir. I love the look, the feel, the atmosphere. More importantly, I also love how noir exists in a purely existential universe where sin, guilt and immorality run rampant. This is my own definition but I think it clearly defines noir. Since 1990's "The Grifters" and 1997's "L.A. Confidential" (arguably the last official "true" noir films), we have seen the stylized look in many films but not the soul. "Lost Highway" and "Mulholland Dr." had the staples of noir but they exist in David Lynch's own crossbreed of dreams and nightmares. "Sin City" has the look down pat, but this picture exists in a vacuum of such cartoonish, monotonous repetition that it will leave you exhausted and bored out of your mind.

Based on Frank Miller's cult graphic novel, Sin City is actually Basin City, a place where primarily murderers, prostitutes, mobsters, crooked politicians and the police, who seem just as crooked, exist. There is one good cop in this wretched mix of scum and villainy, and his name is Hartigan (Bruce Willis). He is a near-60-year-old crusty man with ambition to solve one last crime involving a little girl who has been molested by a truly evil serial pedophile (Nick Stahl). But then it seems that Hartigan's partner (Michael Madsen) is not such a nice guy either since both are after the same nutcase. I should also mention that Jessica Alba is introduced as a stripper with a heart of gold who works at a sleazy bar where all the characters occasionally pop up.

One such character is a murderous hulk who defies the laws of gravity named Marv (Mickey Rourke). He has a night of bliss with a prostitute named Goldie (Jamie King), who is afterwards murdered. Of course, Marv is the suspect and he spends the rest of the movie killing every person in his path, including scores of policemen and hit men, trying to find the truth. He also has a confrontation with a mute cannibal with piercing fingernails (Elijah Wood) who moves too fast for anyone. And let's not forget a naked Carla Gugino as Marv's parole officer!

Then there is a prototypically weird story involving Clive Owen as some wanted man who has a prostitute for a girlfriend (Rosario Dawson). Owen is also protecting most of the city's prostitutes from a vicious cop named Jack Rafferty (Benicio Del Toro), and an extended scene in a car in which Toro is in some sort of disembodied state will be discussed in great detail by future avaricious film students (this one sequence is directed by Quentin Tarantino).

"Sin City" has grit and has pure style in great strokes - this is a painterly vision of noir where everyone talks as if they were in a 1940's detective yarn (the voice-over narration certainly amplifies that). Of course, the new additions to the mix are seeing isolated color patterns in a black-and-white world. We see a woman in the first scene wearing a red gown while the rest of her is in black-and-white. Sometimes eyes are illuminated by color, especially green or blue. Sometimes blood is crimson red, and other times it is white or a custard yellow (depending on the character). In terms of visual imagination and the use of rear-screen projection, "Sin City" is not just a comic-book yarn come to life - it is noir as reimagined in all its luster by a film noir addict.

Unfortunately, the characters can't bear such close scrutiny. Marv's story is easily the best and Mickey Rourke steals the movie with his persona and his manner of provoking his enemies ("Can't you do any better than that?") His story is that he wants to know who framed him and who killed his beloved Goldie, whom he didn't know was a prostitute. The story has purpose but no real drive - all Marv does is kill and kill and we lose focus as to whom he's after.

Same with Hartigan, the crusty cop who gets plugged throughout the movie without ever going down. Willis does the best he can with a one-dimensional character but there is nothing to chew on - he is shot and left for dead only to come back for more. His character is trying to find the little girl he saved from the pedophile. His quest takes him about eight years since he's been wrongly jailed for the crime. He finds her and the pedophile, who is now a snarling, ugly creature known as Yellow Bastard (Nick Stahl), the deformed freak armed with a whip who gets an orgasm when a woman screams. Though this story ends with a touching coda, it lacks any real weight.

Director Robert Rodriguez invests this mish-mash with real style but what he has not done is inject the same life into the characters, all of whom are as arbitrary and dull as one can imagine. There is not one character that you feel any real connection with - they exist as pawns in a world of sin and vice. Rodriguez and comic-book creator Frank Miller assume that this central conceit is enough to carry a movie but it isn't. And the narrative style, which feels slightly borrowed from Tarantino's classic goofy crime caper "Pulp Fiction," does little to enhance any of the characters' attributes. Shallowness is the name of the game. People get brutally beaten to a pulp from one scene to the next. Bullets fly everywhere and do little to decimate the main characters, though the supporting players get offed immediately. And there are more fistfights, decapitations, beatings, and so on (at one point, a skinhead gets an arrow pierced through his heart and he just stands around waiting for someone to call a medic). It becomes so repetitive because there is no sense of urgency - it is like watching a cartoon where people jump from great heights and land on their two feet with nary a scratch or a broken bone.

"Sin City" is too long-winded yet it is also too visually arresting to dismiss entirely. It has the style of the genre but not the soul, not the humanism and certainly has no interest in the complex morality of an existential universe. As I've said before, audiences today could care less about such weighty matters - they just want action. Perhaps fans of the comic book will get what they pay for. But even such tough noir pictures like "Chinatown" or "Detour" or "The Big Heat," or even the devil-may-care thriller "Angel Heart," required some emotional investment. Here, the only investment is in seeing how highly-charged Rodriguez's giddy filmic mind can get. Count me out.

Love and Suicide in the time of Cat Stevens

HAROLD AND MAUDE (1971)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Hal Ashby's "Harold and Maude" is one of the most offbeat and humane black comedies of all time. Its subject is dour but its presentation is impeccably bright in every respect, dealing with life and death in surprisingly dramatic and obscenely funny ways.

Harold (Bud Cort) is a seemingly troubled 20-year-old who loves to fake suicide attempts. He does them in front of his mother (Vivian Pickles), who is more annoyed than she is frightened by them. Harold pretends to drown, shoot himself, hang himself, slit his wrists, chop off his hand, immolate himself, etc. None of these attempts work on his mother. All his mother does is arrange computer dates with Harold, each of whom he promptly scares away. We do not learn much about Harold except that he enjoys driving a hearse and frequents funerals of people he doesn't know. One day, Harold meets his match at a funeral. She is Maude (Ruth Gordon), a seventy nine-year-old woman who steals cars and just about everything else. She even steals Harold's hearse at one point which is how they meet. Maude teaches Harold to love life, to embrace it and nurture it. She lives in a train car which is full of flowers, guitar-playing instruments, and other assorted trinkets. She shows him the beauty of sunsets and of stealing planted trees on street corners and putting them where they belong: in the forest. Thanks to her free-spirited and nonchalant manner, they almost get into trouble with a motorcycle cop.

At Harold's home, things are not any better. When Harold's mother finds out about Harold's new friend, she tries to get him in the military by way of his Uncle Victor (Charles Tyner), Douglas McCarthur's right-hand man. Harold's response to war is to mimic shooting the enemy and to enjoy it a bit too much. A priest tells Harold that marrying an older woman with sagging breasts and buttocks makes him want to "vomit." Harold's psychiatrist has the funniest line as a Freud portrait stands in back of him: "You want to sleep with your grandmother." But none of this means anything to Maude - she wants Harold to grow and stick to his dreams, his wants, his needs.

"Harold and Maude" evolves with complete assuredness, thanks to a terrific screenplay by Colin Higgins and unobtrusive direction by the late Hal Ashby. Its blend of the macabre with moments of sensibility and pathos makes for a remarkably emotional experience. It also helps that Cat Stevens' songs populate the soundtrack every once in a while, an ironic counterpoint to Harold's own posh digs. If you think about it, it is rather funny to hear a Cat Stevens song playing while Harold drives his hearse.

Bud Cort ("Brewster McCloud") became forever typecast as the elusive Harold, preoccupied with death but also with trying to get attention from his mother. His performance is minimal in terms of expression but slowly he starts to evolve from a wan looking, inexpressive young man into someone who sees there is a life to live in this cruel world.

Ruth Gordon is the real centerpiece of the film, showing a woman of such joy and fleeting sadness (notice the concentration camp number on her wrist) that it makes a film of nihilistic rebellion (Harold and Maude's) into something much deeper and optimistic. Her ironic last sequence will make you tear up.

"Harold and Maude" is the 70's answer to the classic "The Graduate" but more focused and clever at every turn. Yes, there are some stereotypes and perhaps obvious symbolism yet for a film of such black comic overtones, there is a degree of intelligence and humanity that reigns above any other film of its type (it doesn't survive on black humor alone). Love it or hate it, there haven't been many films like "Harold and Maude."